Legendary Travels
by YaoiCookie
Summary: After changing from his years spent on Knothole Island, Garth awakens to find himself in a new world, a world where Will has gone extinct, leaving behind a diverse and strange magic. Slash, Garth x Reaver, other warnings/pairings inside
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, before you begin to read, here's your important announcements:**

**To begin with, this story is a three way crossover. The third crossover I won't mention, because it could possibly scare you off before you begin to read, and because it absolutely came out of nowhere as I was writing this story. I don't even LIKE the third crossover added in this, but it overtook my mind and made this scandalous possibility for a three way cross. That being said, I hope you don't get cold feet and continue on with the story; I rather liked how it turned out.**

**Warning:** Artistic License Used, Does not Ignore but Does not Use Lots of Elements From Fable 3, Garth Centric, Garth x Reaver, Smart!Harry, Smart!Ron, Slash, more than likely a side pairing of Harry/Luna or Harry/Someone else, along with Ron/Hermione or Ron/Someone else, and Hermione/Victor or Hermione/Whoever the hell I want...or you want...or whatever...

**More Warnings: **Will probably never be updated, this story is merely one of the many I have written on my comp that I've dusted off to allow the world to view. Check my profile for adoption data, challenge info, et cetera...who actually spells that anyway? If I do continue this, updates will be slow in coming. However, do note that I still have a few more chapters of this story written.

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Knowledgeable.

If ever a word could fit a person so well, then such would be the case for the Samarkand known as Garth. Knowledgeable, all knowing, scholar; though he was indeed the Hero of Will, he still loved his books more than anything in the world. Perhaps that was why he'd chosen to hide away when Sparrow came looking for his old friends, faking his own death with Reaver's amused help. He didn't want anything to do with Albion anymore; he'd gotten all of the satisfaction he'd needed with Lucien's death.

Of course, that hadn't stopped him from visiting his friend's grave, thankful that no one he knew possessed the Raise Dead spell any longer, otherwise he was sure Sparrow would give him a mouthful. Though he had a lot he wished to berate Sparrow for himself. Honestly, giving Reaver control over the newly forming industrialization? Granted, Sparrow never would have known about the industry if not for visiting Samarkand, but did he really think Reaver was the best choice?

A pang of guilt went through him after the thought, knowing that Sparrow had wanted to ask him to take over the rebuilding. That was neither here nor there, however; he'd made his choice. "Finally leaving for good then?" Reaver wondered, an amused tilt on his lips. How anyone could think that he wouldn't abuse his power was beyond the scholar's knowing.

"No worries," he remarked dryly, standing from Sparrow's grave and brushing off his pants. "I won't be coming back in a heroic attempt to stop anything you plan to do…Though I can't say the same about the barbarian." A sneer came and left the pirate's face, before the amused smirk was back. Garth was surprised to know that he would miss that arrogant rogue; not that he'd ever tell him that.

"I must admit, I was planning on vanishing with you," Reaver chuckled, turning it into a laugh at the look of disgust on Garth's face. "I was going to, but Sparrow left me something that can definitely ease the boredom."

"And suddenly I'm happy about that." Which was true. Though it was still a stupid thing for Sparrow to do it at least kept Reaver off his back. "What's going to happen to his kids though?"

"No worries," and, despite himself, Garth began to worry. "I will see to it that his little Logan and what's her face are raised properly."

"Alex," he responded, repressing the icy shiver that ran down his back. "He named her after his wife."

"Yes, yes," the pirate waved a hand, making the scholar scowl. He feared for Albion's future with Logan raised by Reaver's hand, but he was sure that, should things come to be too bad, Hammer or some other Hero would show up and do something about it. Or at least that nosy bint Theresa; He and the citizens of Albion most certainly wouldn't. "Do I, at least, get the pleasure of knowing where you're going?"

"No!" The word was sharp and crisp, making Reaver smirk deviously. Garth knew that smirk, it was the _I can have whatever I want_ smirk. He knew, without a doubt, that Reaver would find him if he truly wanted to; he would simply have to make sure that it would be a long time before such a thing became the case.

There were no goodbyes between them when he finally left, though he made sure to go opposite the way he was really headed. Only when Reaver returned towards the castle did he make his way back, though he was quite certain that the laughing man knew exactly what he was doing anyway; bastard.

The freedom he was given as a result of his supposed death was liberating. No longer were people turning to him for stories, demonstrations of magic and anything else they deemed they had a right to know. Though, truthfully, he knew that to be because he'd decided to head straight to Knothole Island, a small and remote town that Sparrow had once told him of during his travels. The little remote town always came up with interesting potions and items and was full to the brim with queer knowledge.

Where once stood weak and cowardly beings, the people of Knothole now stood tall and proud, their culture once again thriving under the tutelage of Jessica, a friend to Sparrow who had managed to open her eyes to how easily her family and friends were dying out. Though they would never measure up to their warriors of old, they were certainly a strong group, a group that Scarlet Robe would have no doubt been proud of. Though they were still secluded, Garth had no doubt that there would be a day when they were a force to be reckoned with.

Perhaps even more so than Albion, despite their small size.

Their knowledge of potions were immense, easily surpassing all that Albion knew and then some. Those there were all masters of their art. Thankfully, with as closed off as they were to the outside world, no one knew of Garth's supposed death and were more than happy to help out a man who craved knowledge so much. In return for their help, Garth gave a hand where needed as well.

To begin with, there was a financial problem the town was facing; how could they possibly get things to work with, with no money, after all? They'd been surprised at how rich Garth was and even more that he gave his gold freely, though he merely waved it away. He'd had manors all around Samarkand and Albion before selling them; they hadn't even dented his funds. Then, with that taken care of, there was the problem of Will. No one quite knew how to do such feats of magic, though they were adamant that they could create a potion to imitate the effects. Garth hadn't believed them, though he did challenge them to prove him wrong, lending them his Stop Time spell.

They'd proved him wrong.

Garth had been delighted, despite it taking two years for them to do so. Regardless of the time, they had actually done so, which made him think of other avenues of magic. It was no secret to anyone that magic was dying out, the knowledge being out of reach as people focused more on strength and skill than anything, and thus the projects of Will Focus commenced. He'd even helped create a potion that could raise the dead, though he didn't bother to teach anyone the actual spell for the focus; he could only imagine the horror that could happen with such a spell at anyone's fingertips.

And that was quite literal, considering they'd chosen gauntlets as a focus.

In the midst of their creating, Garth had also had the chance to expand and increase his magic, even teaching a few of those interested in learning some of what he knew. There was a strong difference in their levels of power, noted quite extensively as the people of Knothole finally saw what he knew all along; though the gauntlets made it easier to cast Will, and even brought forth the thought to mix Will, it was no where near as strong as Garth's own handheld Will. They didn't even dredge up enough powerful magic to receive Will Lines.

Such a thing displeased Garth greatly, though he was happy that Will wouldn't die out at the least. He couldn't deny, however, that going to Knothole was the smartest thing he'd ever done. Jessica had a way of coming across things he was looking for, or things he'd find interesting, without batting an eye. It was through her that he picked up the history and legends surrounding Knothole, Samarkand, Albion and places he'd had no idea existed, creatures he'd had no idea existed.

The most interesting of folklores he'd heard tales of were found in the Weather Shrines.

The first shrine he had visited was the Ice Shrine and he was quite amazed at what he'd found inside. It was huge, for starters, but also filled with dangers that were perfect for honing his magic and getting away from the chatter of the villagers. It was also full to the brim with old knowledge, books, artifacts and legends long since lost to the world. It was here that Garth found a story (which cut abruptly from sogginess) about the magical animals that once graced the world.

These creatures were boons to Will users, who called these animals familiars, though what little he gleaned from the waterlogged pages were that the animals chose who they considered worthy. Such a thing could be a blessing and curse, he'd mused, for the animal didn't care about personal alignment. The Ice Shrine also spoke of a great bird of ice, which brought about the cold weather by apparently beating strong wings made of ice. According to legend, the bird only appeared to those lost and doomed to die in the icy mountains. Though skeptical about it, mostly because it was seen only when lives were endangered, Garth never dismissed the legend, especially as pieces of different colored books constantly spoke in awe of such a creature.

The Ice Shrine was also home to a new magic, the Ice Storm, which took nearly a year for the Samarkand to master. It was also the first official spell belonging solely to Knothole, which boosted quite a bit of moral. With their gauntlets, it didn't take nearly as long as it had taken the hero to learn, though with the level of magic he could cast it with no one even dared to hold it above his head. His level one, mediocre casting was already surpassed their level three, making him smirk in satisfaction though he'd deny it if ever asked.

In the Sun Shrine, Garth had come across the old spells of fire, which surpassed the Inferno Spell that those in Albion knew. There was also more folklore, more pieces of these colored books that held ancient tales, and more creatures that caught the scholar's attention. This time, the books spoke of a bird of fire, who had chased off the bird of ice, causing the weather to change from one extreme to the next. Through these pages, Garth learned that they'd dubbed the birds a distinct title; Phoenix.

It was an eager Samarkand that made his way through the Storm Shrine, his eyes wide for any information that he could get. He'd assumed, correctly, that the last shrine would also house a tale of a phoenix and had scoured through every nook and cranny to find his proof. There was indeed proof of another bird, though the information Garth found had astounded him.

Whereas before, where the books and pages were burned, torn or waterlogged, the ones within the Storm Shrine were in mint condition. And the stories within were fascinating, even though his skepticism refused to reside. It was the history of the land known as Knothole, though it was the history of what had happened before those from Knothole Glade had settled there. Long before those who'd named the phoenixes had built the shrines to honor them.

The story of the ice bird was first, detailing a creature with icy wings and a great large tail with blue plumage, greeting the weary travelers in the mountains. _It had been snowing then,_ the writer of the book noted,_ snowing harsh and cold with bitter winds that were unbearable, and many thought that we wouldn't make it. It hadn't taken long for us to start dying out; frost bite, pneumonia, starvation, monsters; when we first caught sight of this mighty bird. _Many of the books detailed vivid red eyes through a storm staring pompously at them, as though mocking the creatures that dared to invade its lands.

The second story was that of the fire bird, though the books, strangely enough, stressed that the fire bird was the third to appear. It had appeared when the group had finally decided that, in order to survive the harsh weather, they would have to kill the gorgeous bird, aptly named Artic. _The phoenix had displayed powers unimaginable, _the book read, _and was not amused by our attempts to slay it. With a mighty gust of its wings, the Artic One flew into the sky and drew in deeply, seeming to bring in all of the cold that caused us such pain. Our relief was short lived, for in the next moment the mighty being spat out all that harmed us, freezing our brethren, killing us mercilessly._

_It was here that the Fire Phoenix came._

_This great creature, eyes full of malice, barreled into Artic, stopping it from drawing in another breath. The two beings raged against each other for what may have been days, magic after unbelievable magic cast between them before Artic fled, chased shortly after by the fire one. Amazingly, with every beat of Artic's wings, the snow fell harder, but the fire one's wings, which flew off after Artic, melted the snow which had fallen. It was our saving grace, for all of the snow melted after a few hours time, giving us time to repopulate._

Jessica had often joined Garth in searching for books of their history, amazed at the tales of these phoenixes and delighted to be of use. It was she who found the third book, which spoke of the second bird, the one dedicated to the Storm Shrine. It was this story Garth found the most interesting, and he also understood the reasons for making the second bird the one spoken of in the third book.

The second phoenix had been seen a day after they'd encountered Artic through the storm, though they'd only seen the bird's eyes then. This Lightning Phoenix, Zap as they called it, had been seen flying out to sea on large yellow and black wings, following a ship in the distance. When next they saw the bird, it was a year after the Ice and Fire Phoenixes had fought.

_We were leery then, _wrote the narrator of the third book, _for the blessings that we thought the great Mol had given us had cursed us verily. Though we no longer suffered from the biting cold, the scorching sun was just as unbearable. This phoenix would no doubt cause us trouble, trouble we were not sure we could live through. When the mighty bird landed, we didn't know what to do, so we waited. Surprisingly, this phoenix brought with it cool winds, winds that we craved desperately. For a short time, we were led into a false security; it was as we let our guard down that it struck._

_The storm was sudden, brought in with great rains, heavy winds and heaving lightning that ravaged all that stood in its way. The great Zap gave a mighty screech and flew into the middle of the storm and was struck by lightning. The phoenix gave another shout, one of joy I believe, before flying into the clouds._

_The storm lasted for days. It tore our homes, destroyed the forests and caused a great sadness to land upon us. This land that we'd come to was forever cursed, and we had no way off of it._

The book showed drawings of these birds before abruptly cutting off by way of torn pages. Annoyed, Garth had read the broken pieces of the pages left, stunned at what he read and wondering of what he missed. The page after the torn ones detailed a mighty battle between the three birds, causing a storm so great that all wondered how they had survived. Then the pages tore again before skipping to a picture of Knothole Island in full Spring bloom and the people happy and prospering.

The rest of the books said much of the same, though it wasn't until he read a silver book that his curiosity was put to rest. Whereas the other books explained the beginning and end of the tale, the silver book detailed what happened in between. As the birds clashed in the air a violent storm started up, causing the sea to ripple around the island, before, from within a great big wave, a white phoenix emerged.

_We were stunned, afraid, and petrified; Four. Four of these mighty beings with such powers existed around us, but this new one was different. It was far larger, far more powerful, and yet, there was gentle calmness in its song. The great white fought the three others, forcing them apart for the first time in days. It was a short reprieve._

_The phoenixes stayed away from each other during that time, Artic taking solace in the mountains, Zap the skies and Mol the heat of the sun. But the white one came to us._

"Amazing," Garth murmured, running his fingers over the texts. The white phoenix, the one they called Lugia, spoke to them telepathically, telling them of the problems that would happen if the fighting continued, and how they could stop it. Garth's amazement stemmed not from the bird speaking, or even that Knothole could have a Spring, but from what the people needed to do to end the fighting. And, though he was still quite skeptical of such a tall tale, all of the Will Scrolls they'd found had proven to be legit, so how could this new one be any different?

"Do you really think it's possible?" Jessica wondered, having taken the scroll from the hollow back of the book.

"I want to say it isn't," Garth admitted. "Though we all thought it impossible for those who weren't Heroes to use Will." And they'd fixed that up quite well, hadn't they?

"Then if that's true, that means that Knothole could have a Spring." A delighted smile lit on her worn face as she traced the pictures on the scroll reverently. The Samarkand frowned slightly, recasting fire to a new torch as the light began to dim.

"Jessica, I hope you recall that I'm leaving Knothole soon."

"I may be old, but I'm yet senile, Garth." Jessica gave him a mock glare, before once again letting her fingers trace the picture. "You've been here a good six years, you were bound to leave eventually. But, Garth…" She trailed off, staring at the picture with longing. "I know we promised not to ask you for anything…"

"You want to see if we could bring Spring to Knothole, then?" He interrupted, a bit excited at the prospect himself. Jessica nodded sharply. "Then, I suppose we'd better find the missing pieces of the puzzle."

"What are we missing?" She wondered, finally tearing her gaze away from the scroll.

"Lugia's Lament, for one," he mused, tapping the scroll where the person was playing a flute. He pointed to the next part of the scroll with a bit of hesitation. "Then there's the instructions for how to do that type of magic. And we have to summon Lugia."

"Mayhap the book explains that," Jessica frowned, picking up a copy of the silver one he held. "No time like the present to get to looking, right?" With an agreeing nod, Garth continued to read through the story the book called The Power of One.

_Artic, Zap and Mol came back together, which shouldn't have surprised us, yet it did. The creatures, it seemed, had come to a truce, had come to fight Lugia together before they would continue to fight each other. Lugia had predicted right. Though we were petrified, we recalled all that the great white one had taught us, and immediately set up whilst it engaged the three to distract it from us._

_Chief Ash sat in the middle of the storm, concentrated on his magic, whilst Lady Misty readied her flute. Healer Brock stood a little ways away from the chief, just in case something went wrong. And, while they fought, our Lady began to play…_

It took two years for everything to work; first, Jessica had to get the song downplayed to memory as they'd found a note in the gold book that said only a woman could play the tune. Then there was the spell; it couldn't be picked up by just anyone, considering that it wasn't like all the rest of the spells they knew. After all, it would be hard trying to cast a spell when it required looking into one's self. The spell did, after all, turn people into animals. It seemed to be something simple, too, a spell that required no knowledge of other spells, just one's magic.

But it was quite difficult.

To begin with, one had to be aware of their magic. Garth had always been aware of Will, the spells he caused, the damage he inflicted and how to improve such things, but never of his own magic. They were indeed quite separate, as he'd learned, though thankfully he was quite good at the meditation required to reach his inner core. After that, he simply had to find his inner animal and become it, which was easier said then done. It took half a year just to find out what he was (an owl, surprisingly), which boosted his confidence enough for him to continue going.

Then there was the actual becoming of the animal. It took a while before Garth had the idea to temporarily leave Knothole to find one of them, only to come back with it completely torn apart. Jessica had been appalled, but she'd understood his reasons for doing so. After all, he didn't remotely know what the insides of the creature looked like, so it was hard to try to change himself into it. Indeed, the added knowledge made the process that much easier, no doubt shaving off what could have been years of study. It still took a year, regardless.

Jessica, no, the entirety of Knothole had been amazed at his feat of magic, even more so when they were finally let in on the secret that Garth and Jessica had been keeping. Many were quite skeptical about it happening, but considering Garth could suddenly become an animal they'd quietly taken precautions like Jessica suggested. After two years all preparations were ready.

Garth sat in the middle of Knothole, surrounded on all sides by Weather Seals. Jessica stood a ways behind him, her flute clutched in her hands as she nervously wet her lips. There was no healer for them, after all, considering they were the only two people left on the island. The others were off a ways from the island, waiting until the storm would stop with all of their valuables aboard their ships. Garth had been sure to seal all of his own items on his person, just in case.

"Are we ready?" Jessica questioned, her grip on her flute tightening. Instead of answering her, the scholar let his magic touch all of the Weather Seals, wincing as a grinding noise started up. Jessica drew in a sharp breath and dug her heels in the ground as a warm yet heavy rain began, followed closely by harsh winds and ominous thunder clouds. Garth shuddered, staring into the sky as the storm picked up. "This doesn't seem too bad," the Knothole woman stated softly, also looking up.

Her words were like a curse.

The mountain was suddenly struck by a bolt of lightning and the ice caps crumbled down and demolished the Ice Shrine. The two stared at it in shock, both from the suddenness and from the loud cry that happened afterwards. Suddenly, a bright blue light shot from the demolished shrine and from within it came a large blue and very familiar bird.

"Damn," was all Garth could say. Artic flapped its large icy wings, causing the warm rains to suddenly freeze and hurt worse than before. Even from such a distance, both humans could see pompous red eyes glaring at them, before their attention turned to the Sun Shrine as it began to crumble. Jessica barely managed to dodge out of the way of the debris as the top of the shrine rolled where she had been standing. A blast of stifling hot air came from the shrine's direction and with it another piercing wail as a red light blasted into the air.

The fiery form burst into the air, making the two humans squint against the sudden bright light. Mol flapped wings of fire, making the heat swelter, before immediately blasting a breath of pure, molten fire at the disoriented Artic. The icy bird took the hit dead on, crashing into the Storm Shrine with a loud cry. A keening wail came from newly broken shrine as a yellow light came from within it, crashing into Mol as the fire bird tried to pursue the fallen Artic.

Zap flapped pointy yellow and black wings, glaring at the screeching Mol and then at the rising Artic. Garth breathed in sharply, mesmerized at the reunion of the beings that he could no longer say were merely legends, even though he knew that the reunion between the beautiful phoenixes was not to be a happy one.

"Oh God, oh God…" Jessica chanted, rooted to the spot as the three creatures suddenly began to attack each other, loud booms of light being the only thing that they could see from the powerful phoenixes.

"Keep it together!" Garth shouted, ducking his head as a bolt of lightning struck the ground beside him. "Stay where you are and don't move!" The woman shuddered but gave a shout of affirmation, even if she was sure that she'd soiled herself. The scholar remained seated, staring at the waters that were pooling into knothole even as they slowly continued to freeze. If the lightning struck the water when it touched him, then he would be in some serious trouble. "I'd better not die," he mumbled, refusing to look at his shaking hands. He was already old, but he didn't want to die.

Not like this.

The seas began to lap harshly as tornadoes picked up above and below it, destroying the homes of those no longer inside of Knothole. Garth and Jessica both hissed in pain as the debris battered against them, though both stubbornly held their posts. They were rewarded shortly by their perseverance as a tornado of water suddenly parted the fighting trio. From within emerged the great white one, the most powerful of the four; Lugia. Jessica gave a shuddering gasp, her flute heading to her lips at once, though no tune came from her yet. Artic, Zap and Mol hesitated for the barest of moments, before, with sharp, angry noises, they charged at Lugia.

"Now!" Garth shouted to Jessica, cursing when the petrified woman didn't seem to hear him. If it wasn't for the storm, he wouldn't have minded sending a shock of lightning to her, but he had to settle for yelling himself hoarse. Jessica seemed to finally snap out of her funk when Lugia let out a loud, heartbreaking wail and crashed into the remains of her home. "Damn it, woman, play the damn song!" A few shaky notes came from her direction, barely heard over the raging winds as the three phoenixes came closer to them, their magic pooling into their mouths as they aimed at the fallen Lugia.

Closing his eyes tightly, Garth changed into his bird form as Lugia frantically beat his wings, strong gusts of cutting winds blasting at the trio before they could cause him harm. The sound of the flute grew louder as he dashed through the middle of the blasts of energy, a feeling of fear that he would never admit to within him as he charged headfirst into such high concentrations of Will, the four pieces of energy smothering him in the middle.

Had he been human, Garth would have yelled until his lungs freed themselves from his mouth. A warbled hiss was his only cry as ice, lightning, fire and cutting winds engulfed his small form. He wasn't even granted the sweet release of death. As Jessica would later describe it, the attacks seemed to melt and absorb into him, causing him to expand into a strange looking, yet beautiful bird. All Garth could remember was a major build up of power exploding out of him, covering the land in a wave of fire, then rain, then calming winds, before he finally got his blessed peace.

When he awoke it was weeks later, laying in a half completed home and feeling younger than he had in years. The sounds of construction greeted his ears and sunlight beamed happily on his face. For once though, it wasn't too hot. With a groan, Garth sat up, a frown of confusion on his face. The world seemed so much bigger than it should have been, and he wasn't too certain that he was still in Knothole. And the birds, what had happened to them?

"Finally awake, are you?" A young and happy voice turned him towards the missing door, where an attractive woman made her way into the home. She put a hand on her hips and smiled down at him as he stared at her in confusion. "I almost thought you wouldn't make it, being out for almost a month and all. It is most certainly a pleasure to see you back with us again; the villagers will certainly rejoice. Welcome back to the land of the living, Garth." She tilted her head as he continued to stare at her in bemusement. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

"No…" He admitted, blinking rapidly at the childish tone. That most definitely wasn't his voice!

"It's me, doll; Jessica." His attention quickly turned back to her, a look of disbelief on his face. "It's true," she snorted. "I know who I am. I may be old, but I'm yet senile, Garth."

"J-Jessica?" He squeaked. "What happened to you? What happened to _me_?"

"We died," she stated bluntly, confidently, completely shutting Garth up as he stared at her, stunned. "You…you killed us. Then, you brought us back to life."

"I don't understand." The words were soft yet blunt, making her lips twitch.

"I think we can get you caught up to speed; come along, doll. Come on." Garth's nose scrunched up at the endearment, though he quickly stood from the bed, trying to ignore his short legs and the weird clothing he wore. His hands were so small and-

"I can see." Jessica blinked in bemusement, turning to stare at him as he stopped halfway across the room. The shrunken man raised a soft hand to his left eye, where his monocle no longer resided, and stared in amazement as he actually saw his hand in both eyes. Such a thing was-should have been-was supposed to be impossible, because he'd been blind for a long time. Blind since long before becoming a scholar, since the days he'd had to fight for food and was poorer than the poorest beggar.

"You most certainly can," Jessica beamed at him. "But that's not even the best part; come _on_, doll." She grabbed his hand and marched him from the half completed building, letting his hand go only to put hers over his eyes when he reached the doorway.

"This is hardly proper," he tutted, though he didn't begrudge her antics. The walk was a short one, filled with soft chatter and words of amazement, before ending as Jessica abruptly removed her hands from Garth's face.

"Tada!" Garth blinked, his feet stepping forward before he could stop himself, even as he slowly turned to take in the view. Lush green fields were all around, smatterings of beautiful flowers mixed within. A river flowed from the mountains, turning what was once the middle of the village into a small lake. Beautiful white clouds hung in the air, parting to reveal a beaming sun and a glittering rainbow. Birds flew by happily, insects gleefully made new homes, the animals peered down from the forest, backed by melting mountains as a soft breeze tugged gently at Garth's hair.

It was official; Spring had come to Knothole Island.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jessica's voice sounded teary as she placed a hand on his shoulder. He could only nod wordlessly. "But, that isn't all that's changed. Look into the water, Garth; look at yourself." Hesitantly, the Samarkand did as told, staring into the crystal waters that he stood above, only to get a shock that he hadn't been expecting. It wasn't the youth of his face that stunned him, despite his inner denial he'd known from the moment that he saw his legs and hand that he was a child again, though he was grateful that his Will Lines hadn't decreased in the slightest. What he hadn't expected was the change to his body.

His eyes, for one, were red; not as red as he recalled Artic's eyes, but still red. Not to mention the skin around his eyes were far darker than they had ever been, almost looking as though make up had been added to them. But even more shocking was his hair; he'd always had strange white hair, making him exotic even in his own land, but his white hair had vanished. In its place was a soft, downy mane of golden locks, which curled slightly at the ends. He pulled a lock towards him, dismayed if he was perfectly honest. He'd always loved his white hair; it was uniquely his.

A gasp left his throat as his hair abruptly changed color, the locks on his head suddenly white once more, though when he tilted his head the sun made it look golden again. "This is…remarkable," he whispered. "I'm young again, my magic feels incredible, and Spring has finally come to Knothole." His wide eyes quickly snapped up to Jessica. "You must tell me what happened; and where are my things? Bloody woman…"

Minutes later Garth sat in a hut, his items spread before him as a woman from the slowly rebuilding Knothole happily made him a new pair of clothes. He was staring at Jessica with wide eyes, completely disbelieving his ears even if he didn't detect a lie from her. "I absorbed their Will?" He questioned, getting an agreeing nod from her. "And then I…changed…?" Another nod.

"You became a phoenix," Jessica reaffirmed, her fingers occupied by a gold book. "The fifth one, the Ho-oh; just like the texts said."

"It didn't say anything about this," he muttered petulantly, gesturing to his shrunken body. She sent him a sharp glare, though he pretended not to notice. "So I became this Ho-oh," he continued, "then I…sung?"

"And Lugia began to sing, too, yes." She turned her attention to the book, her fingers tracing as she read a passage aloud. "And the mighty birds froze, their wings flapping uncertainly, before they, too, sung the tune. And the skies seemed to shudder, the grounds breathe and the seas laugh in relief as the mighty Ho-oh wailed, the destruction caused by the others vanishing under a sea of fire."

"And then the sun came," Garth continued the passage, having burned it into his memory before doing the strange ritual. "And the fires ceased, leaving the grounds full of ashes, which was then carried upon a gentle wind."

"And the rain began to pour," Jessica looked up from the book, still quoting it yet not intentionally as she hadn't bothered to memorize it. "And around us the ground began to rumble before, amazingly, the greenest grass I had ever seen sprung up."

"And the phoenixes seemed to dance playfully in the air as they surrounded the Ho-oh, their song lessening as the fifth one flew into the air with a mighty gust of winds, an arc of color beneath it. And the Ho-oh drew in one last shuddering breath…when next we woke, it was Spring." Garth frowned, picking up his own copy of the golden book and thumbing through it. "But what happened after Ho-oh, no, after _I_ took this breath?" Jessica bit her lip, her fingers drumming on her book.

"That's when I died," she confessed, getting a sharp look from him. "It was excruciating; I can now safely say that being burned alive is very painful and cruel to do to anyone but the worst of the worst. But I do recall seeing the phoenixes fly off before I…well…" She finally looked up at him, a smile on her lips. "When next I woke, it was Spring." Garth shot her a disgruntled glare, trying to hide the guilty feelings he held. He had set her on fire, after all.

"Do you know which way the phoenixes went?"

"Artic went towards the mountains with Mol following. Zap went into the sky, and Lugia towards the seas." She hesitated, before tilting her head. "Garth, would it be too much to ask you to change into your animal again?" The scholar blinked in surprise, the thought not having even crossed his mind. Inwardly, he cursed his own foolishness, even as he settled down to feel for his inner animal.

He wondered if he could still become an owl as he searched for that familiar pull, the one that felt more animal than human. Surprisingly, the strand was still there, though it felt unbelievably hot as he drew it around himself. The heat did not burn him, much to his relief, though there was a bit of discomfort as he shifted into the Barn Owl that he had grown use to. Or not, if the stunned way the two women in the clearing were staring at him was any indication. He gave a displeased hiss and clicked his beak, making Jessica jump out of her stupor.

"That's new," she mumbled, reaching into Garth's items and producing a small mirror. The man turned owl stared bemusedly as she placed the mirror in front of him, letting him get a good look at himself. Had he been human, he would have sighed. His feathers had changed colors; whereas before he was a simple brown and white (with his blue Will Lines here and there), gold's, greens, reds and yellows had been added to his feathers. Where the light shined on him, the feathers shifted colors like a rainbow, reminding him of the way his hair changed back and forth between white and gold.

The changes did, however, make him wonder what the Ho-oh looked like. The pictures within the books were breathtaking, true enough, but having seen the real things there was no way that they could compare. Concentrating, Garth closed his eyes, once again searching for the magic within him. He decided to start off from near his inner owl, searching for another pull though he found nothing. His beak clicked in annoyance as he wondered what to do next, even as he wondered if he could even become the Ho-oh again.

Just as he was finally about to admit defeat, letting his body shift back into its natural shape, the discomfort of the flames tickled his sharp mind. They hadn't been there before, after all, he mused to himself, letting his magic flow into them. The flames seemed to lick at him happily, swirling around his magic in joy and bringing it closer in. Garth shuddered, feeling the flames suddenly burst outwards with his magic as his body began to morph, seeming to go smaller than his owl form. Just as abruptly as it began, it ended, leaving him breathless as he opened his eyes to the outside world.

"You have _really_ got to stop doing that," Jessica murmured, holding the small bird to her chest. The Samarkand gave a huffy bark, desperately looking for the small mirror as he wondered what happened. Seeming to be reading his mind, the Knothole woman held the mirror in front of him so that he could see what he'd become. It was quite the disappointment, too, considering he was nothing more than a small and featherless bird. A cute and chunky, small and featherless bird. Angry squabs left his throat before he could stop himself, making Jessica chuckle.

"You changed from the owl into this," she explained after a moment, knowing that he was demanding an explanation. "I'm one hundred percent positive that you're Ho-oh, considering you burst into the same flames you did the last time you became him." He looked at her and squawked, his wings flapping in disbelief. "Yeah, you burst into flames," she stated ruefully, turning him to the village woman who had been stitching up his clothes. The old woman of before was gone, in her place a fainted, naked and rejuvenated younger girl.

The next year was filled with rebuilding.

Garth wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he was quite reluctant to leave Knothole Island. He'd spent a good ten years studying there and he was quite cozy with the newly improved island. The wildlife was so unique, so different from anything he'd ever seen, and each day there was something new to be found. Like the day when one of the creatures had come from the forests and, somehow, forged a bond with Jessica. A magical bond; a familiar bond.

The creature was a small and pudgy pink and white…thing. After searching the books they found, they were able to link a name to it, as well as a name to the other creatures that begun to show up after Ho-oh appeared. It was a Happiny, a creature, the book described, that helped the village Healer Brock before. It was then that both Jessica and Garth knew that, although weak at the moment, the people of Knothole would one day be a formidable force, just like the first settlers amongst the island.

The magical creatures had slowly been mingling within the village, bonding themselves to the strongest warriors and even helping out with the reconstruction. It was an amazing view to see. Garth had, however, continued to read through the books that held information about the events that happened after the spat with the phoenixes. Unknown to Jessica, he was keeping quite a bit of information from her. Like the last book that he'd found, the one that told of why the totems had been built and why Spring had reverted back again.

The black and white book was filled with ramblings of fear and disbelief, of sorrow and anger and lamenting the island once more being cursed_. I write this, my last log and data, _the book began, _once more sitting in an icy land. It has only been three days since Chief Ash has died, Lady Misty has fallen into a state of despondency. Our familiars have cut our bonds and once again vanished into the mountains. We should have realized that something bad was going to happen then._

_For sixty years we have lived in harmony and peace on our beloved Pallet, with Spring forever blossoming and the days of our first journeys seeming like awful nightmares. We had nearly forgotten what it was like to hunger, to hope that someone would save us, to curse the island we had come to consider home. We grew lax and lazy, relying on Chief Ash to do all of our work for us. We no longer had to crop, see, for he could merely burn everything and it bloomed again._

_Chief Ash never seemed to age, never complained, though looking back I see now how much strain we put on his and Lady's relationship. For every time he burned, he was reduced to the body of a child and could not grow for three months. It was only after a few years when we learned that the Chief, being Ho-oh, was immortal, as were the other phoenixes. Which is why it was such a shock when he died._

Garth frowned at the book, not quite liking where it was heading, though he had continued to read it regardless. He had to know; he had to.

_Our Lady was not happy with him as she had never once burned with him a day after the first time. She was old, much older than him, much older than he could become. She took comfort in Healer Brock's arms. We know this, I know this, only because our Lady berated us at the Chief's funeral. Berated us, herself, and Healer Brock. Chief Ash had died because of a broken heart. Had died because he knew. Had died because he'd chosen to._

_Only hours after his death had the coldness spread._

_Lugia had come to us then, had explained what was happening much to our horror. The pact that had been made between them, the bond that was made no longer needed to be held. With Ho-oh gone, there was no one to protect our island, no one to stop the four from fighting, no one who would care to. For Lugia, you see, had no respect for what we had become; we could hear it in his song, even if he never said the words aloud. He had abandoned us, no; we had abandoned him first._

_And they have slowly come back again, these great and terrible creatures. We must do something, we must, or we will all die._

Garth wondered if, once he'd left the island, the Spring that had sprung would leave with him? His question had been answered mentally, words spoken by Lugia itself. Spring would indeed leave with him, as the pact between the four fighting phoenixes only held for as long as he stayed. The Samarkand had been stunned at the thought, knowing that he couldn't leave the people, leave Jessica, in such a state. He'd searched quickly for a way to rebuild the totems, though his heart nearly gave at seeing what it took, at seeing why there had been no settlers left on the unclaimed land.

They had sacrificed themselves, for the last and final time asking Lugia for help. All they had needed was for him to distract them. _This will be my final day on this accursed land and I pray that the next settlers will heed my warnings. We have, somehow, survived the constant storms and managed to build our Totems of Sealing. Chief Giovanni has also chosen the three sacrifices needed to make this plan work._

_Lady Misty has been chosen to seal Artic, the first one that we have seen. I do not know if she has protested this; I do not think she even knows. My friend Dawn has been chosen to seal Zap and she has confided in me that she was not given a choice. The last sacrifice is to be me, as I have volunteered for the task. I cannot live knowing what type of leader we have now, for Giovanni is not a nice man, and I will not let my friend die alone._

_I do not think that any of them will survive long after we go; Giovanni is a cruel man, and I doubt he will respect Lugia's wishes. Gentle though the white one may be, he is also powerful and angry at us; I doubt he will be amused with trying to be controlled. And I know that he will try, for once Chief Ash died, Giovanni wasted no time trying to steal his familiar._

_I can only hope that, when these things come to pass, my people will die peacefully. And hopefully the next travelers foolish enough to cross our lands will heed my warnings and learn to respect the gifts that are given to us._

_Max, I know you are wondering why I have come here, I know that you are spying on me. For once, I am not angry. I leave this book in the open for you, dear brother, so that you can know that I am proud of you and that I'm sorry I never told you how much I love you. We seemed so immortal, living in the phoenix's ashes, but I will become a sacrifice._

_Don't cry, Max, and leave at once. Follow Ralts and stay safe. And please, **please,** don't doubt that I love you. I will always love you, even if I have never said it. I only hope that you can forgive me for leaving you so soon._

_Your loving sister, May._

"Are you okay, Garth?" Jessica wondered, sitting beside the man who had become distant over the year. Garth said nothing, staring down at the lake where the strange magical creatures swam. It was an amazing sight. "You're leaving soon, aren't you?" The Knothole woman continued on despite his silence, staring into the waters with him. "I must admit, I'll miss you when you're gone."

"When I leave, Spring leaves with me," he blurted, refusing to look up and see her reaction. For a long while there was nothing but silence between them, before Jessica gave a chuckle.

"I know," she admitted softly, kicking her legs.

"You know?" He repeated numbly, seeing her nod out of the corner of his eyes. "How?"

"You talk in your sleep sometimes." Her simple statement made him sigh, his body curling up against his will.

"Are you angry with me?"

"No." The single word made his eyes look at her, searching for any hint of lie. "I'm really not mad, doll," she huffed at him. "How could I be? You're not from here, you have no obligation here, and you granted us all our fondest wish. We knew from the start that you were leaving and we'll see you off with a smile, damn it." Garth swallowed past the lump in his throat, his wet eyes turning to once more peer into the water.

The people of Knothole, he'd decided then, were truly his favorite people in all of Albion.

_I can't leave them in the condition I found them in, _Garth sighed, laying down on the floor of Jessica's home. He hadn't been able to let the conversation between them rest that month, knowing by the end of it he would be leaving Knothole, the small settling that wasn't nearly as selfish as the world around them. What little they asked of him had been enough for them, they hadn't changed their minds, resented him, or asked him for more like the people of Albion had done to Sparrow. There was no way that he could leave them without a parting gift.

But he couldn't stay in Knothole forever. Jessica had said it correctly; he wasn't from there and had no obligations, nothing more than study had been his reason to come. Knothole was indeed beautiful, one of the better places that he'd ever seen, but it wasn't where he wanted to spend all of his life. The day of his leaving was a melancholy one, the familiars and even the magical creatures in the forests seeming to have quieted just for this day alone. Jessica and the other villagers had peppered Garth with gifts, clothes for his younger self, his older self, nuts and berries, books, bags, and even gold.

"Thank you for bringing Spring to Knothole," a teary Jessica said, the words followed by the rest of the villagers. "It was a pleasure to host you these past years, Garth." The Samarkand merely nodded, his throat too tight to speak for the moment. "I must admit, I'm curious as to where you will go now."

"I…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't really know; perhaps I'll take a peek in on the rest of Albion." But even before he said it, he knew that to be a lie. They'd heard the rumors of Albion going through a rough time, hadn't even traded with the town in almost two years. "When I leave, you do know that Spring leaves with me, correct?" The question was for the rest of the villagers, who looked stunned at the news. Garth was expecting those looks to turn to bitterness and righteous anger, but was surprised, and quite touched, that they tried to console him, as though it was _he_ who would be hurt by the season shifts.

"Don't worry your head over it."

"We'll find a way to do it again!"

"There's no need to feel any guilt; you just make sure you take care of yourself!" Heart light by the-the selfless words of kindness, Garth decided then and there that something would be done. No, not him; Ho-oh decided that something would be done. His Will drew up to the surface without his say so, making his eyes widen as the people of Knothole took a cautious step back. Flames burst from his feet as his body shifted, expanding into the majestic bird that had given the people Spring, the great Ho-oh. Garth was stunned as he lost control of his magic, watching as the flames seemed to search the ground for something. One line of flames snatched something from the waters, one from the sky and the last from the mountains.

_What's going on? _He wondered, watching as three magical creatures were burned and pulled towards him. _What's happening?_

_There is much for you to learn, _came a voice full of promises.

The creatures wailed in torment, making many a viewer put a hand to their mouth to stifle their own cries, even as the creatures began to glow. When the light cleared and the wails ceased, three doglike creatures stood in place of magical creatures of before, each looking regal in their own right. Garth felt himself calm as the knowledge of what was happening went through him, even as a gust of soothing winds began around the village. Ho-oh trilled happily as he understood.

_Our final gifts to you, _the legendary bird spoke to Jessica, who's eyes widened in shock as she stuttered out the words to the others. _Eternal Spring._

"Thank you," Garth murmured, feeling his eyes close as the soothing fires wrapped around him, lulling him to sleep. He knew that, when next he opened his eyes, Knothole would be long gone. Ho-oh trilled again as he took to the skies, an arc of light following his feet as the villagers stared gratefully into the sky.

"Good luck," Jessica murmured, feeling every bit her age even if she did look like a teen. A hand comfortingly rested on her back, making her close her eyes on insistent tears. "And thank you, doll."

* * *

Garth wondered how much time had passed.

Many people would have no doubt considered him strange for the thought as they would have had more pressing concerns in their minds. Questions like what had happened, why were they here, where was everybody and what is going on? But the Samarkand hadn't thought about such words, even if he had been dragged into this world of darkness by the one called Ho-oh. All he wanted to know was how long he'd been in this secluded world. A minute, a month, a year even?

The great creature had not been lying when it said that he had much he'd needed to learn, and the scholar had been more than happy to learn all that he was currently missing. The existence of other worlds, time travels, lost magic, species on the planet, on the planets, the life span of a phoenix, dead languages, new languages and so much that one would expect his head to have exploded by then. However, the information had been slow in coming, not rammed into his head all at once thankfully. But with the amount of info he had received, it made him wonder just how long he had been stuck inside of the nothingness.

That was how he knew he was leaving it soon.

After all, with all of those memories to sort through (which he'd done), to all of the memories he continued to get (which had slowed), he shouldn't have had time to wonder about the time. A chuckle started up around him, making Garth's lips twitch in amusement as he slowly sat up from wherever he lay. "I'm glad you find my thoughts amusing."

_My human was smart long before I came. _The words filled the scholar up with warmth as he turned to see a fire slowly rising in the distance. _You were correct, _Ho-oh continued, _you will be leaving here soon._

"I'm not sure if I'm relieved or not," Garth admitted, his head on his hands. "What happens to you when I'm gone?"

_I will cease to exist,_ it stated simply, not concerned in the least. _Though my legacy will continue through you. _The flames licked at the Samarkand's face as a bright light suddenly chased the darkness away. In spite of himself, Garth felt an overwhelming bout of sadness wash through him. It always pained him to end a life and now he was ending one so soon after coming back. He hadn't even gotten much of a chance to speak the legendary creature. _Do not be sad, _Ho-oh admonished gently, appearing before him as his vision began to fade. _For the first time since my creation, I can finally sleep._

_I was right,_ Garth mused to himself, his eyes closing against his will. _The books did you no justice._ The last thing he heard was the sound of a joyful trill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Poll Alert:** A new poll is out that will allow readers to vote on which of my stories will be continued! Yup, I'm considering it. Won't do it if there's not much demand for it though! So, if you like a story, viggity-vote!

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Industrialization had ruined Albion.

Garth frowned, or rather, he would have frowned had he still been human. As a multicolored owl, however, he merely let his feathers droop. He'd awoken that day surrounded by ashes, featherless and cold in a place surrounded by magical stones. The very air felt magical actually, though he hadn't wasted time figuring it out, instead turning into his owl shape and taking to the skies.

Upon leaving the spot of his awakening, he'd been assaulted by eye watering clouds of smog, the magical barrier of the place he was in having closed him off from it before. It hadn't taken him too long to find out that it was the taint of industrialization. And the industry had indeed gotten quite far; So far, in fact, that Garth had to wonder how long he had slept again. And though he'd never encountered the things known as cars, Ho-oh had, and he was grateful that the memories kept him from being too shocked.

Otherwise he would have never known that people were paying attention to him.

Nor would he ever have realized that they were speaking Common, which let him know that he was still in Albion. These people were fascinated with him, it seemed, with the colors that his feathers held. "It has to be a new species," some person lamented, reaching up with a-hmm, Ho-oh's memories didn't say. Whatever it was that they held, it took a flashing picture of him, making him twist his head and hiss at them in annoyance. "I'm going to get so much money off of this!"

"We _both_ discovered it," said the person's friend firmly, also taking a picture. "We've got equal rights." Garth clicked his beak in annoyance, flying down to attack the devices both held and giving a hiss of accomplishment as they dropped and broke into pieces. "Son of a bitch!"

"My phone!" Quickly, the Samarkand took off, hiding in a tree and staring down at the two scrambling people. The last thing he needed was for someone to take an interest in him; his memory showed that that was a bad thing. Still, being an owl cut off the many benefits that being a phoenix gave him, like teleporting and going invisible, yet it would be a full month and two weeks before the form matured enough to take flight. Thus, he was in a bind; he could wander as an unusual colored owl, a hapless chick, or a young child without a guardian. All of them were bad choices.

Had he the facial muscles he would have scowled as he took to the skies again, dashing away from the disappointed people below. He wondered where and when he was, how he was going to get by and if he wanted to. He had a feeling that he was needed here, however, otherwise Ho-oh the previous would not have left him in the area. He needed to plan; things were always easier when he had a plan. First order of business taken care of, Garth set off to find something to write with.

Industrialism was everywhere he went and only seemed to get worse the more people grouped together. He'd tried his hardest not to be noticed as he flew about, but a multicolored bird definitely drew attention in the dark backdrops of the city. Probably more so than a child, but he didn't have any money to pay for the items he wanted, and he wasn't so sure it would be wise to pay with gold. Thus, sharp talons scratched at the worker of the store as the man tried to shoo him away from his merchandise.

Garth felt just the slightest bit guilty as the man warily took a step back, though he squashed the feeling down as he went back to browsing the store, his neck moving around at a swift three hundred sixty degrees before he found what he wanted. A pack of pens and a book full of paper. He let out an excited hiss and flew off to grab them, the wary man in the shop yelling obscenities as he tried to protect his products. Garth ignored him, instead pretending to attack a customer until she frantically opened the door to release him, her neat hair in disarray by the time he'd finally left.

A few minutes later saw a dark skinned, white haired child sitting at the park, his stolen pens and notebook opened before him as he jotted down a plan to get himself together. _I can't live as a human until I grow,_ Garth mentally noted, _and that won't be for another three months. In the meantime, I suppose I will be living as an owl for a month and then a phoenix for two. So, first thing first, I have to find a spot to rest comfortably and safely without being discovered._

He wrote it down at once, his pen tapping against his lip once through. _Then, I can find a library; surely they wouldn't mind a child peering through their books?_ He wrote it down again, the scholar in him excited at a new chance of learning. _And I'll need to find out if Heroes still exist, if Will has…disappeared. _He shuddered at the thought. _I wonder if the Heroes' Guild still exists. And what of Hannah, Reaver and Sparrow's children, Alex and Logan, what happened to them? What of their bloodline?_ Somehow, he doubted that Reaver had yet to die, but Hannah never cared much for immortality.

A plan of action in mind, Garth turned his attention from the book and peered into his bag. He had no idea how, but when he turned back into a human he'd had all of the supplies he'd left Knothole Island with. He hadn't even felt the weight of them on his person when he'd turned into an owl and flew off, and he wondered what sort of magic he was unconsciously doing to cloak and lighten the load he carried. Even better, though, was the food inside that was still fresh. He really hadn't wanted to resort to stealing more to live; that life was something he'd always put behind him.

Garth had books to read from his own timeline, books that were probably rather valuable depending on when he was and if he ever decided to sell them. Not to mention all of his worldly possessions that he never walked without; furniture from his manors, gold, potions equipment, clothes; all he needed was to buy a castle to live in and life would practically be back to normal. _I will need to buy a temporary home,_ he mused, writing it down. He had no idea how he would go about it though.

In Albion the houses all had a magical deed hanging beside the home. If you wanted it, then you wrote your name down and deposited the coins into the slot for it; the same with paying your rent. However, he'd yet to see even an inch of magic in the area around him, so he assumed that it was done differently here. _Really need to find a library._

"Hey, you there!" Red eyes peered up at the call, making a strange looking white man give out a small gasp. It was obvious that the man was stunned by his appearance, especially as his eyes went over his Will Lines, but the man had enough sense to say nothing about them.

"Yes?" Garth questioned, closing his book up. The man blinked at the polite tone, before walking over to him.

"What are you doing here alone?" He questioned, eyebrow raised. Garth wondered what business it was of his what he was doing, before he tilted his head and eyed the badge on the man's clothing. He was a guard then; he was probably just doing his duty. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"I don't go to school," Garth patiently explained, putting his book and pens away. "I finished it a long time ago mister…?"

"Howard," the man introduced himself, a disarming smile on his face. "Officer Howard, at your service. And you are?"

"Sparrow," the Samarkand beamed at him, not batting a lash.

"Sparrow," Howard sat on the table, his black uniform creasing slightly. "That's a pretty name; did your mother give it to you?"

"Of course she did," Garth shook his head, resisting the urge to sigh as he realized what the man was trying to do. He had to get himself out of the situation fast; the last thing he wanted was for the man to wait with him until his nonexistent parents showed up. He could just imagine what he would say to explain their absence. _"Gee, no worries officer, they tend to forget I exist at times!"_

"Where is your mother?" Howard continued innocently. "What's she doing leaving a little guy like you out here on your own?"

"Mama's in heaven," Garth replied equally as innocently. "She's always with me." The officer paused, his face softening to slight regret that made Garth feel the slightest bit guilty; it was true though.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the officer mumbled. "What about your father then? Is he around?"

"He just went to the store," the man in the body of a child confirmed, before making his face light up with joy. "Oh, there he is right there!" The officer fell for the ploy as he turned around to see nothing, before he quickly turned back to the child that was no longer there. Sitting as a multicolored owl in a tree, Garth watched as the officer stared around as though he'd seen a ghost. _Note to self, a child on its lonesome will still attract undue attention._ He gave a clipped bark to the sky. _I suppose I should really find that safe place now._

Of course, finding a safe place wasn't really that easy. People were _everywhere_ and where there were no people he was too far away from cities to go back and forth each day. Not to mention he had yet to find a library. Irritation shot through Garth after five days of nothing as he sat down on the ledge of a building. People were taking pictures of him with their _phones_, these strange devices that apparently allowed them to speak to people far away, though for once he let them. Besides, the world probably knew about the "new species" flying around these days considering he couldn't camouflage himself for another few weeks.

Garth hissed as a woman in a black uniform tossed a bit of drugged food up at him. He was so happy that he had his own food to eat; with as many attempts these people had tried at drugging him he knew his half starved mind would have eventually caved in. A bird settled in next to him, cocking its head curiously as it eyed him and the food in question. **"Don't want,"** the Samarkand spoke to it, keeping the amusement from his voice.

"**Thanks!"** Swooping down, the bird quickly snatched up the laced food and flew off, despite the humans having tried to shoo it off. Being a bird, Garth had found out that he could talk to other avian creatures. It didn't matter much though, most of the birds paid more attention to where they ate than human activities. If the place didn't have a high chance of bearing food then there was no point in remembering it. Some birds though…

Garth craned his neck up, sensing a small speck of magic. He'd seen quite a few owls around with specks of magic caked into their feathers, but they were always in a hurry and had packages and letters clutched in their talons. Whenever he tried to get close to them the magic in the air thickened and he felt the warnings of an attack if he tried to get any nearer. As weak as the magic seemed to feel, Garth hadn't wanted the birds to think of him as a threat, so he'd backed off, hoping to find one without the added protection of a magical barrier.

Clicking his beak, the Samarkand made for the skies and just narrowly dodged a dart shot at him. He hissed and barked angrily at the woman with the gun before quickly heading off to follow the magic in the air. His eyes caught sight of a white and black owl in the distance, who clutched a package in its talons and beat its wings occasionally. From the distance, Garth could tell that this owl didn't have a barrier around it, which almost made him hiss in delight as he proved a theory of his right.

When approaching the other owls he'd felt animal magic covering them. However, none of the magic was of an avian nature, thus making him believe that someone else had placed the magic on them. He hadn't really had anything to base it on because he'd yet to meet an owl without a barrier, but now that he did it was rather obvious. After all, the bird in the distance had the taste of human Will on it. Still, he wondered why people would cast animal magic on the creatures instead of their own, before he shook his head and got closer to the bird.

"**Hey?"** He questioned, sidling up to the owl. **"Question?"** The snowy owl didn't falter in its task, though a sharp sense of annoyance flew off of it at once.

"**No food,"** the female voice informed him haughtily. **"Find own."**

"**No, not food,"** Garth blinked, a feeling of amusement within him even as he considered his words carefully. Birds had a rather direct vocabulary; using too many words often confused them, no matter how smart they were. **"Search for place,"** he settled on saying. **"Look for Will. You seen?"**

"**Will?"** The owl wondered curiously.

"**Magic,"** he amended, mentally cheering as the bird bobbed her head. **"Magic where?"**

"**Go now,"** she informed him. **"Take message for human. Want come?"**

"**Yes."** He bobbed his head in satisfaction, then looked at the package in her talons. **"Want help? Am strong."** She shot him an irritated glance, making him back away hastily.

"**My trust,"** she explained to his questioning look. **"Fail bad. Won't fail."** He nodded hastily, making her settle down. _Still, _he mused, following after the owl quietly. _At least I've finally found something magical; maybe I can find shelter there and a library? I wonder what her human is like._ It took nearly two days to follow the snowy owl to her destination, which was a strange and lopsided house that looked as though it would kill over any minute. Despite that fact, it was surrounded by animal magic, making Garth rather curious. The two days spent with the owl, Hedwig she'd said her human had named her, had thankfully been less tense than the first meeting.

Having a large package in her talons meant that Hedwig couldn't hunt for herself, thus she was meant to be fed at the end of her journey. Admittedly angry on the bird's behalf, Garth had swooped down occasionally to catch the surprised bird a meal, making her look at him in a new light. Honestly though, he was just happy that he didn't have to meet her human, even if she assured him that her boy was special and kind. He was obviously rather dimwitted too, if he never realized that his precious pet couldn't feed or defend herself when tied down.

At least the other owls had barriers around them, weak though they were.

Hedwig led him to the leaning house and circled around to a window, before tapping on it insistently. Curious, Garth hovered slightly behind her and watched as a gangly redheaded boy peered through the window, his freckly face giving a beam of delight. "Hedwig, you've made it back!" He opened the window, allowing both owls to slip in, even as he eyed Garth with a look of wide eyed shock.

But the multicolored owl paid him no mind, instead looking around the room he was in with slight amazement. It was a horrendously colored room, all orange and disgusting, with posters that _moved_ and a smell that spoke of slight poverty. Hedwig happily allowed herself to be caged as she gave her package away and went for a drink of water, allowing a small bird to zoom out for freedom with happiness.

"**Free! Free! Fly! Free! Do much! Do much! Give me do much!"**

"**Pigwidgeon,"** Hedwig barked to his flabbergasted look. **"Dumb bird. Hyper. Too much energy."** Pigwidgeon didn't seem to hear her as he continued to zoom circles in the air, ignoring his human's shouts for him to settle down. After nearly a minute of watching, Garth took pity on the redhead, flapped into the air, gripped Pigwidgeon tightly with his talons on his next go around, and hastily tossed him into his cell. Surprised silence came after his actions, though he again paid it no mind, instead closing and locking the cage with his beak. Pigwidgeon looked at him in surprise, slightly hurt.

"**No free?"**

"**Settle,"** Garth told him, cocking his head. **"Settle and free."** It didn't seem to really understand him, though he merely ruffled his feathers, the bird equivalent to a shrug, and turned to Hedwig. **"Thank you."** The snowy owl bobbed her head, too busy drinking to respond, even as the redhead went through his letter behind them.

"Funny," he was muttering. "I don't see a mention of the owl anywhere." Garth hissed lowly and fluttered his wings, deciding to leave the boy to his lonesome as he searched the house, still curious about the animal magic in the air. The scent of food brought him straight down to a kitchen, where food was cooking itself as a plump redheaded woman was scolding identical twins. She stopped abruptly when catching sight of him, though he merely tilted his head and appraised her.

She had magic within her, so much more so than the children around her, though it was mostly untapped, and she smelled strongly of animal magic. Same with the two boys and the girl that stepped into the kitchen looking for a bite to eat. "Well, hello dear," the older woman walked over to him, a hand raised to pet him. "When did you get in?"

"It came in with Hedwig," the gangly redhead from before stated, walking into the kitchen with curious eyes. "I was looking for it; left the room while I was reading."

"Harry sent it then?" One of the twins questioned. The younger shook his head.

"Not even a mention in the letter."

"Maybe its not Harry's," the young girl piped up, flushing lightly. "Maybe Hedwig picked herself up a mate?" Garth hissed at the suggestion even as the others seriously thought it through.

"That's got to be," began a twin.

"The stupidest," the other continued.

"Nastiest-"

"Foulest-"

"Most disgusting thought-"

"We have ever had-"

"The displeasure of having," they finished together. "Thanks Ginny." The older woman looked at the two sharply.

"Fred. George."

"Sorry mum." As amusing as it was to watch the family interact with each other, Garth knew he would get nowhere by pretending to be a bird. Looking around him once more to ensure that it was magic he was seeing, Garth flapped into the air and caught their attention, only to come up short as many different scenarios went through his head.

What if they panicked? What if they thought he was trying to harm them? What if they weren't use to his type of magic? Awkwardly, he settled on the older woman's shoulder as he pondered what to do. How could he get his message across to them? He needed someway to make them believe…Suddenly, an image ghosted through his mind, something that the previous Ho-oh had done to walk through human places without detection. Satisfied with the thought, he nipped the woman's ear and tugged at her hair, making her give a start.

_Come on,_ he mentally chanted, grabbing the front of her shirt in his talons and pulling. _Follow me!_ The woman attempted to remove him without harming him, though he continued in his assault, exasperated that she didn't seem to get it. "What is wrong with this owl?" She wondered, struggling to get a hold of him.

"Maybe he wants you to follow him, mum?" The younger redheaded girl pointed out, getting a hiss of satisfaction from Garth as he released the older woman. Sheesh, was it really that hard to figure out? Abandoning the older woman, he landed on the younger's shoulder and nipped her ear fondly. _Thanks for having some sense!_ "I think I was right," the redhead chuckled, brushing a particularly bright feather on his head. "Well, lead the way."

"I don't think so, Ginny," her mother warned, concern in her voice. "You can never be too careful..." But Garth knew the women and kids were curious, and he quickly dashed from the house and headed towards the forest, knowing they would follow him eventually. Still, it gave him time to lay out his hastily thought up plan, making him give out a sigh as his bones shifted back to human. A wave of his hand brought about a phantom version of his owl form, that quickly became corporal as it melded into a rock. Hearing footsteps approaching, Garth quickly changed his clothes, muttering under his breath.

The people of Knothole had a mighty sense of humor, giving him such disgustingly cute clothes for his child self, but he supposed that it worked in his favor. Clad in a silky thin blue robe with clouds etched across them, Garth held out a hand for his Illusionary Bird to perch on. It did so at once, making him nod in satisfaction. "I was wondering where you'd flown off to," he began, purposefully speaking loud enough for the redheaded family to overhear. "Honestly, Enfys, if you keep leading me around like that I'll be even more lost than before!" The bird gave a loud bark and a hiss, the words actually making sense to him.

"**Ask them for directions, stupid."**

"I'll ask whoever the hell I want for directions!" Garth snapped, honestly surprised. Had he just argued with a fake manifestation of himself? "And I'd appreciate it if you stop leading me to people's homes!"

"**Barbarian."** The Samarkand sputtered in disbelief, his response to the words he had spoken so long ago to Hannah lost in his throat as pairs of blue eyes stared him over in surprise. Enfys settled on his shoulder and nipped his hair, making him take an irritated swipe at it, before he turned back to the family he'd nearly forgotten about.

"Hello there," he smiled charmingly, giving a nod of his head to them. "Thank you for giving Enfys a temporary respite from his travels; I'll just be heading off now."

"No, wait!" The mother stepped forward, concern oozing from her as she stared his child form over curiously. "Did I hear you say you were lost? Where are your parents?"

"I'm a little bit lost, yes." He nodded, smile not leaving his face. "I was looking for magic; Enfys here is supposed to lead me to it, but he keeps leading me to magical homes instead."

"**I said, ask them for directions, stupid."**

"Shut up before I pluck you," Garth warned out the corner of his mouth, smile not leaving his face.

"And your parents?" The matronly woman wondered, hands on her hips. Garth gave a bow of his head.

"Thank you again; I'll be heading off now."

"Absolutely not." A firm hand grabbed his shoulder as he tried to walk off, making him withhold a smile as he was led, rather forcibly, into the place he'd just flown out of minutes before. The woman waved a stick and shot out a beam of animal magic, making the once floating appliance dish out a meal for her children and an extra set for him. Before he could protest, she used her stick to cast the animal magic once more to make him a chair of his own. Garth frowned in confusion as he sat.

_I've never seen Will cast like this; perhaps it is because animal magic is so diverse? Yes, so many different smells around here, all of the appliances uses animal magic to move; but not a hint of industry. How strange._ He tilted his head as more redheads came into the kitchen, the lot of them rudely staring him over, even as their mother pulled an older redhead, their father perhaps?, to the side to whisper quietly to him. As the kids didn't deem fit to introduce themselves, Garth decided not to do so as well, instead eating his meal with more manners than the others.

It was…rather disgusting. He resisted the urge to spit it out, though he couldn't help but twitch at the taste of live animal in the meal. _Animal magic should not be cast over food._ None of the others seemed to mind it, though he rather thought it was because they were use to it; if they ever tried a hand cooked meal then they may have never looked back. "Make sure you eat up good and well," the woman stated, eyeing his plate with a concerned eye.

"Yes ma'am," he replied sullenly, then proceeded to place most of his food into an empty side pocket of his bag; disgusting, but he could always clean it out later. Only once their lunch had finished did the mother finally remember her manners and introduce everyone, in the process of shooing the curious kids out of the house. Ginerva, Ronald, Percy, Fred, George, Arthur and Molly Weasley; he'd introduced himself as Sparrow again.

"Sparrow, that's a lovely name," Molly beamed at him, sitting down in a chair beside her husband. Arthur was eyeing Garth's Will Lines with curiosity, having remained quiet while they ate. "Now, you said that you were looking for the magical world?" Actually, he said that he was looking for magic; he hadn't even known that magic had its own separate world. _Well, that explains the lack of Will around the industrial places._ He nodded to Mrs. Weasley's question, knowing what her next one would be long before she said anything. "And why aren't your parents taking you?"

"I don't have any," he explained, withholding the urge to snap at her for the blunt and invasive question. "My mama and papa have long since taken flight to the skies; all I have left is Enfys." He pat the thankfully silent owl, silently judging their reactions. The woman looked shocked and dismayed, while the man looked grim.

"Who has been taking care of you then?" Arthur wondered quietly. Garth spared him a glance.

"Enfys has," he ventured, getting raised brows from them. "He has," the Samarkand repeated firmly. "Without him I would have long since been lost." Which was true; he couldn't imagine the horror of trying to navigate through the city on legs. "And because of him I found out a lot about this place."

"Are you not from around here then?" Mr. Weasley questioned, his tone light. Had he been a real child, Garth was sure that he would have never known he was being interrogated.

"Yes," he confessed. "I've only been here for about a week, but I was surrounded by people without magic. Enfys followed Hedwig and led me here."

"How do you know Hedwig's name?" The man continued, eyes narrowing slightly. Garth mentally cursed his slip-up, though he shrugged his shoulder loftily.

"Like I said, Enfys has taken care of me for some time now; how can he take care of me if I can't understand him?" They shot disbelieving looks to the Illusionary Bird, though he merely puffed up under their attention. "He's been trying to help me find the magical world since we got here, but I think we were transported to the wrong area." He scratched at his head sheepishly. "If you could just tell us where to go, we'll gladly be out of your way soon."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." The words made Garth frown in annoyance.

"Why not, sir?" The adults shared a look between them.

"A child should not wander alone," Mrs. Weasley spoke up, concern once again in her tone. "My husband works at the Ministry of Magic and-"

"Ministry?" He interrupted with a curled up nose. _How can one minister magic?_ He wondered to himself. _It is free to belong to all those who can grasp it._ Molly was still speaking, but Garth found himself ignoring her as he reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook and pen. He stared his plans over with a critical eye, before marking in new goals. _Find out more about the magical world and the Ministry of Magic. Find out more about the normal world too._ He snapped his book shut as he noticed Arthur leaning in for a closer look.

"Is there anywhere I can buy a house?" Garth interrupted Molly without really caring. "I'm looking to buy a manor or a castle, preferably a castle. Oh, and I could really do to see a bank to exchange currency if they allow it." The flabbergasted looks on their faces made him slightly self-conscious, though the Will user decided that he wasn't exactly fond of the Weasley's as he sat on their couch and stared at the…_Auror_ before him with boredom. _Damn busybodies,_ he mentally sneered.

"No, I will not allow you to see my money," Garth intoned to the Auror. "It's my money; you're acting like I stole it." Honestly, if this was what their guards were like… "I don't see why its any of your business where I wish to live." …Then he was sure that he wouldn't like the magical world much. "I don't mind an escort to the bank, so long as you don't interfere in my business while I'm there." The Auror looked flustered at being dismissed so easily by a child, even as Garth glared daggers at the Weasley's when Arthur cleared his throat.

"Do you wish me to take him, Dwalish?" He wondered, shooting the flustered man an amused look.

"I don't want _your_ help," Garth spoke up before Dwalish could get his bearings. "You've done enough for me, thanks." His words were brusque and bitter, making the redheaded man wince, though he couldn't find it in himself to care. Still, at least he'd be getting a chance to visit the bank before they tried to haul him to an orphanage. Tried, because there was no way in hell he would sit still long enough for that, even if he did have to reveal his own abilities while at it. "Are we going to the bank or not?"

"I-I suppose," Dwalish murmured, standing up a bit unsurely and holding out his hand. "Have you ever Side-Along Apparated before?"

"No," Garth stated, grabbing his hand after a moment of hesitation. Enfys quickly settled upon his shoulder, wide eyes focused on the Weasley Patriarch as he tried to speak again. "Now can you hurry up? We're burning daylight." Sighing about petulant children, Dwalish gave a nod to the Weasley's and…and attempted to _kill_ him! Garth jerked his hand from the man's hold the moment he'd been released from whatever tube the man had squeezed them through, feeling the slight bit of food he'd been forced to eat come back up at once on the cobbled road he was now standing on.

"You-!" He gasped, even as the mess was hastily cleared up with a gust of animal magic by a pedestrian on the street that had stopped at the commotion. _"You tried to kill me!" _Garth shouted, staring at Dwalish with horrified eyes. Enfys was no longer present either, just a rock on the street, though the man didn't seem to realize that as he tried to settle the, in his eyes, upset and panicking kid down.

"Now now, it was just-"

"Monster!" Garth shouted, jumping behind a man who was trying to ask what was going on. "I thought you said you were going to-you never said-I can't believe you tried to _kill_ me!" It took a good ten minutes to calm down the crowd and the Samarkand, though Garth was absolutely positive that he was never going to Apparate again. _What sort of barbaric world have I been thrust in?_ He wondered in slight horrification. _Why not just use a Cullis Gate? Why force yourself to use such a horrific means of transport?_

He was led to a white building called Gringotts, where Hobbes…well, _Goblins_ were prevalent everywhere. Resisting the urge to shudder in disbelief, Garth was led to a teller, who impatiently wondered what it was they wanted. "We would-"

"Who is this _we_ you speak of?" Garth wondered, cutting Dwalish off at once. "I do believe I said that _I_ wished to handle my funds _alone_; now, if you would kindly step aside to let me do my business?" He waved a hand dismissively, making the Auror flush as the Goblin leered at him.

"Is this man bothering you, sir?" The not so innocent question was posed. Sensing an opportunity, the Samarkand nodded at once, making the Goblin snap his fingers. Two heavily armored Goblins pointed sharp spears at the stuttering Auror's throat and led him away from the pair, making Garth beam happily; he may have looked like a child but he most certainly wasn't.

"Thanks…" He peered at the Goblin's clothes, unsurprised to see the words written in the Hobbe Language. "High Tinker Goldsmith." Goldsmith's eyes widened at the correct reading of his name, though he said nothing to comment on it. Smug at surprising the creature (and surprised at how far along they'd come!), Garth dug into his bag and produced a pouch of golden coins. "Tell me, is this currency still acceptable?" Goldsmith took the bag and opened it, eyes widening further as he saw what was inside.

"Th-this is…it can't be…" He reverently picked up a piece of gold, before looking up at Garth as though he'd seen a ghost. "What currency is this?" He questioned.

"Albion," he responded, tilting his head. "And I have plenty; tell me, is it still good here?"

"Is it-?" Seeming to be at a lost of words, the Goblin whistled sharply, a stubbier one coming to him at once. _"I need a Golden Scale,"_ he barked to…Silverton in the Hobbe language, unaware that Garth could understand them. _"And tell Hobbes to expect a visitor from Albion!"_ Silverton's eyes widened in surprise, before he quickly skittered off to do as told, a Golden Scale delivered to them post haste. Head tilted, Garth watched as Goldsmith reverently placed the bag of gold on the scale, then began to place a bag of jewels on the other side. The balance was barely disrupted, with the gold still weighing more. _"Incredible,"_ he whispered. _"On a scale of value, the gold is worth more than a bag of rare gems."_

"I take it that it's acceptable then?" Garth finally spoke up, making the Goblin give a start.

"Y-yes…yes, it is an acceptable currency. May I inquire as to your name, sir?"

"Garth of Samarkand," he introduced. Another wide eyed look was his response.

"You mean the…?" Goldsmith trailed off, looking at him curiously.

"Hero of Will," Garth finished, knowing exactly what he wanted. "I take it you've been expecting me?"

"For many years, good sir." The voice was someone entirely new, a rather ugly little Goblin that looked remarkably similar to the child stealing, people eating creatures of his own time. Ironically enough, his nametag read Hobbes. High Manager Hobbes. "If you would follow me, Will Master Garth?" Nodding, Garth took back his pouch of money from Goldsmith's hands with the slightest bit of resistance from the Goblin, before he followed behind Hobbes silently.

He was led to a high ceiling room and bid to sit in an uncomfortable chair. Resisting the urge to frown, Garth sat up properly in the chair and waited as Hobbes got a hold of himself and sat as well with many folders in his hand. _"I never thought I'd have to deal with this in my lifetime,"_ Hobbes mumbled to himself. _"I only pray that no one has touched them…oh, good, they're still here."_ He produced a yellow, blue, red and green ring, making Garth raise a brow curiously as the Goblin finally turned to him.

"Will Master Garth, I am High Manager Hobbes, Quarter Owner to Gringotts," he introduced himself. "My family has been around since the days of Albion and, I assure you, you are a long way from home."

"I figured," Garth mumbled.

"I am sure you're wondering just how I know who you are and many other questions, most of which will be answered here." He gestured to the folders in front of him. "These rings are yours as well, again, the reasons why are all within the folders; I implore you to read them now." Nodding, Garth barely batted an eye as the Goblin snapped his fingers and made a table appear in front of him with all of the items on his desk appearing on it.

The folders were labeled with numbers and the Samarkand began with the first one, his brow skyrocketing in slight disbelief. _I, Hannah III of Oakfield, a Hero of Strength,_ it read, _being of sound mind and body, doth hereby claim that all assets belonging to my family are passed down to Will Master Garth, provided my family should fall to the new ways of magic and forsake their heritage. If such a thing does occur, then my family is not to be allowed to the reading of my will._

_Witnesses: Skill Master Reaver, Queen Alexander, Bank Manager Bangle, High Manager Hobbes._

"The Ring of Strength," Garth murmured, eyes widening in surprise as he finally paid closer attention to the rings. _Of course, the colors…Blue was Hannah, Yellow was Reaver, Red myself and Green Sparrow…_Dread filled him as he stared over the sapphire Ring of Strength, Hannah's wedding ring if he recalled correctly, before he sat down the folder and looked at number two.

_As Mayor, _this one read, _it is my duty to ensure that those of worth receive the praise that they are due. I, Julia May, craft this ring in honor of Will Master Garth, the Hero of Knothole Island, who brought to our glade Eternal Spring. May his gold flow heavily with the boon we freely give._

_Witnesses: Skill Master Reaver, King Alexander IV, Bank Manager Bangle, High Manager Hobbes._

Throat clogging slightly, Garth peered over the ruby Ring of Will; he had wondered, of course, but he hadn't thought that it would have been those of Knothole to make a ring for him. Honestly though, he wondered who Julia was and how she knew of him. _Perhaps she was related to Jessica?_ Garth mused, again placing the folder down without looking over what else was inside; he wasn't sure he could stomach it. _If things go according to the direction I'm thinking, then Reaver's ring should be next._ His heart beat uncomfortably against his chest as he stared at folder number three, not sure if he could read it.

He hated Reaver, he had always hated that arrogant rogue, but he had been a constant in Albion life. History, present, and future; Reaver was supposed to be there. If he was dead, then…Nervous fingers hesitated on the folder, before he sat it down and went to the fourth. Just the thought of it was enough to bring tears to his eyes, even if he would forever deny it. Slightly ashamed of himself, the Indifferent Hero opened up the fourth folder, then felt his brow tic in annoyance as he read it over.

_Garth,_ it practically purred at him, _why am I not surprised to know that you skipped over folder three? In case you don't realize it yet, this is the magnificent Reaver, and I assure you that I am far from dead. I have heard many things about your exploits from my search in Knothole and there are many that you must hear about mines; oh, how the world is both a beauteous and rancid place! This cloudy diamond ring I bestow to you is so that I can recognize you when I see you, though you won't recognize me, I assure you._

_Come find me Garth, ignore your plans to visit whatever library you're looking for; Most of it isn't accurate anyway. I have written books upon books of what the world has done in your absence; I know you want them, little phoenix. Tatty-bye! Reaver._

_Last Updated: 1981_

"What year is it?" Garth wondered, hand clenching as he flipped through the pages behind the message. It was full with pictures of books written in Samarkand, surprisingly, all in Reaver's neat calligraphy, and the little snippets the pages showed made him nearly salivate. _Damn rogue knows me too well,_ he thought almost fondly.

"The year is nineteen ninety four," Hobbes stated, not looking up from whatever he was reading. Nodding, Garth sat the folder back down and opened number three, flushing as he recalled his previous thoughts. All affection for Reaver's character flew out of the window as he began to grumble under his breath, eyes raking over folder three.

_I, Queen Alexander X, being of sound mind and body, doth hereby leave all of my worldly possessions to the first Hero who claims it. I will bury it in the sands of Aurora, surrounded on all sides by the darkness that once claimed Albion so gruesomely, and place little to no protection around it. If you are desperate enough to do so, then go and get it._

_Witnesses: Bank Manager Bangle, High Manager Hobbes, Mid Manager Grim, Low Manager Licorice_

_Claimed by: Skill Master Reaver, May 26__th__, 1839_

_Passed onto: Will Master Garth, May 30__th__, 1839_

_I, Reaver, the Hero of Skill, being of sound mind and body, doth hereby leave all of the treasures I have found belonging to Queen Alexander X and others surrounding to my dear friend Garth, the Hero of Will, provided he agrees to help me when he returns. All he has to do is wear the emerald Ring of Experience to bind himself to the agreement. I also claim, in accordance to the Hobbes's wishes, to not have any evil intentions for said help. This I swear upon the magic of the soil I stand upon. As I will it, so mote it be._

_Witnesses: Bank Manager Bangle, High Manager Hobbes, Mid Manager Grim, Low Manager Licorice_

Garth's brow rose in surprise, even as he finally went through the folders and looked at what was left to him. Most of it was money, with Reaver's claimed and given treasure bringing in the most wealth, while others had furniture, potions, scrolls and books. He particularly loved the plot of land and the reconstructed castle Reaver had made for him; from the pictures, it looked just like Brightwood Tower, the castle he used to own before he'd sold it to Sparrow. It even had a small lake beside it.

Absently, he wondered how Reaver knew so many details about his old place, then he decided he _really_ didn't want to know.

"This is a lot to take in," Garth mused, looking over the rings again. "Tell me, Hobbes, is there a special order or finger I must use to wear these rings?" Hobbes looked disappointed that he'd asked, making him raise a brow and file it away for later.

"Your personal ruby ring should go upon your pointer finger on your right hand along with the sapphire around your ring finger on the same hand. The cloudy diamond ring goes around your pointer finger upon your left hand and the emerald upon your ring finger." Raising a brow, the Samarkand did as instructed, then felt a flush creep up his neck; was it strange that the rings Reaver had given him, especially the one upon which he had an agreement made by wearing the ring, ended up on his marriage hand?

_Reaver and his sick little jokes,_ Garth bit back a sigh, then spent a good thirty minutes reading over and signing papers to accept his assets. He'd also had to laugh as he realized that the papers before him legally proved him to be an adult, and so did the rings, apparently. As it was, even the rather nauseating trip into the tunnels did not dampen his high spirits as he picked up gold and many useful items to take with him through his house. _Damn Hobbes and their fondness for childish pleasures,_ he thought with his eyes closed on the trip back up. _Then again, they were just human children once._

The only thing that really soured his mood was the awaiting Auror that he'd forgotten about while reading of the past. Dwalish was joined by another man, this one looking far more intimidating than his friend, and their eyes focused on him the moment he came from his trip. Before they could reach him, Garth quickly hailed a scuttling Goblin and passed along a note, making the thing bob his…no, wait, make that her head as she went off to do as instructed.

"There you are, Sparrow!" Dwalish exclaimed, placing a hand on his shoulder. Garth resisted the urge to forcibly remove him, though he remained quiet as the man gestured to the other man beside them. "Sparrow, this is Auror Moody." Moody was, quite frankly, a rather grizzly looking man; he had a fake rotating eye, a wooden leg and more bruises on him than a ripe banana.

"Greetings sir," Garth stated politely, extending a hand to him. The man took his hand loosely, before abruptly tightening his grip and jerking him forward.

"Constant Vigilance!" He barked, even as Garth released a Slow Time spell and removed himself from his hold. To the others, it looked as though he'd blurred and was suddenly in another spot, making Moody's fake eye focus on him in surprise. "What in Merlin's name-?"

"Please, do _not_ attempt to cow me with fear tactics, sir," Garth stated coldly while rubbing his sore wrist. "Not only is it rude, but I'm pretty sure I can have your job for it. Ah, good," he turned away from the man and eyed the female Goblin he'd hailed before. "Lady Mimic, you have the forms?" She gave a startled blink and looked him over, rubbing her beard and no doubt wondering how he knew she was a woman.

"Yes sir, here you are." She passed along a form to him, then gave each of the Aurors their own copy. Their eyes focused on the page in surprise, though Garth couldn't quite keep the smug grin off his face. "I assume everything is in order now?" She questioned nastily, glaring over the two Aurors with a cruel light.

"B-but this is-this is-!"

"Forms that legally claim Mister _Garth_ as an adult," Moody mused, fake eye focusing on Garth as the other continued to read. "And quite an influential one at that; three different bloodlines of old families passed down to you?" He eyed the rings on Garth's hands even as Dwalish continued to stutter. "I suppose you'll still be needing an escort to the Ministry of Magic to claim your council seats?"

"No." The Will Master shook his head, looking the two over loftily. "I'll be retiring to my castle and getting myself situated first, then I'll be more than happy to claim everything that belongs to me. Now, if you gentlemen don't mind…?" He gestured to the door and turned his back to them, following after Mimic as she let out a low snort of derision to the two Aurors. Withholding a snicker of relief as he was led to the backrooms, Garth released an explosive sigh as he caught sight of an unused Cullis Gate.

"You'll be authorized to use it for approximately two minutes," Lady Mimic intoned gruffly, removing the scant amount of dust from it. Nodding, Garth allowed familiar tendrils of Will to flow through his fingers as he charged up a Lightening Spell, quite different than the weaker Shock variant, then unleashed it above the symbols on the ground. A Cullis Gate shined merrily once he'd finished and he quickly stepped inside, not wanting to see if the Goblins were true to their words of two minutes.

Unlike the dreadful Apparation of before, heading through the Cullis Gate was smooth and simple, as though he took a step in one place and landed in another. As it was, the Samarkand felt a pang of home sickness despite being in the replica of Brightwood Tower as his feet absently led him around the place. The bricks were of the same make, he noticed, though it was thankfully unfurnished, and a look out the window brought about the small lake that he'd coveted for use of potions.

"The only thing missing is the Albion background," Garth noticed rather sadly, even as he began to place his furniture around the castle. The further along he went through the castle the more uneasy the Samarkand felt, and he made sure to stop to write down a question that was seriously bothering him; How the hell did Reaver know the layout of his home so intimately? There were stains on the walls that _he_ had forgotten about! "I'm definitely going to paint these walls a different color."

By the time night fell the castle was decorated with Regal furniture, his supplies all laid out for use as Garth sat and nursed a drink. It would have certainly looked strange and appalling if one were to look in and see a seemingly young child sipping the fine, and no doubt extinct, wine of Albion, but Garth wasn't thinking about that. Instead, he was looking down at his notes and pondering Reaver's words, wondering how he could possibly find the man in the new world he found himself in.

There was no way in hell Reaver still looked the same, not with how vain he was. He'd probably gone through seven million changes in hair style alone and his magic had never been that impressive so tracking him that way was out; he was the Hero of Skill, after all. Perhaps there was someone he could hire to find him? Somehow, he had a feeling that would hit a dead end. When that rogue wished to hide, he would hide, and you wouldn't find him unless he wanted you to.

But Reaver did want to be found, did he not? Eyeing the folder before him, Garth took another sip of wine and flipped it open, going back to the pledge Reaver had given. Whatever had happened in the time Garth had been gone, Reaver needed his help. And, while for Garth not seeing the pirate wasn't a problem, he doubted the immortal man would still be patiently waiting. After all, he had needed that help nearly two hundred years previous.

Smugly, the Samarkand leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs, feeling amusement course through him. He knew exactly how to find that unbearable man; all he had to do was neglect looking for him. Reaver was sure to come to him if he was desperate enough; and, giving up so much free gold and jewels, he was sure to be very desperate for that help. "I wonder how long it will take for you to find me, Reaver." Chuckling, Garth stood and blew out his candles, knowing he still had a lot to do tomorrow.


End file.
